Mistress of the Ethereal Plane (Kuroshitsuji Fanfic)
by EvelynAllgood
Summary: When Samantha Weever was six, she uncovered a set of cards that could bend the fabric of reality. Now thirteen, she loses control of the cards during a reading and falls into another plane. When Samantha is taken in by the Phantomhive Estate, she gets the feeling that everything is not as it seems. Now Samantha must fight with the Phantomhives to save England and her own soul.
1. Chapter 1

1

SAMANTHA

My thick fur coat seemed as if it wasn't even there, as with my other clothing. But, I knew it was, for if it wasn't, I surely would have felt the plane's freezing winds and emptiness. I was between planes, falling, falling quickly. So quickly, in fact, that the wind had completely thrown my hair out of its thick, tight braid. It was now flying freely, whipping my face. The terror that filled me was the only thing keeping my hands tight enough to hold onto the large cardstock cards which had been my constant companion, and had gotten me into this mess. I braced myself for the smack of my body against the barrier into the next dimension, but it never met me. Instead my body seemed to pass through a thick, viscous substance with a pop when I reached the other side.

And I was falling again, but this time truly falling. Everything was there, and my hair wasn't the only thing stinging my face. There was a light snow, and it bit my cheeks like a swarm of mosquitoes. Sadly for me, it was only a very, very light snow. Most likely the first. Not enough to create a soft, cold snow drift to break my fall. When my body flipped over and I saw the ground coming toward me, a loud, involuntary shriek escaped my throat. Loud enough to alert the young garden hand (I believe that was what he was) below me. He dropped his sheers into the snow and fled. I was within 100 yards of the circular shrub that was about twice my height. I braced myself for the crash of leaves, twigs and branches that would be my burial ground.

But it wasn't.

I landed in the garden hand's arms, who had climbed to the top of the brush. Normally, I would have wondered how he broke my fall, but I was too terrified to even think other than to notice that the world was becoming a bit darker than normal around the edges.

ᴕᴥᴕ

I nervously fingered the magic cards that were worn at the edges from use.

"Samantha? Samantha Weever? You're up, hun. It's your turn."

I exhaled loudly and gazed at the top card, the Fairy of the Highlands. Her message was "It's Time To Be Brave". Yeah, definitely. I didn't need The Cards to tell me that, I had known it all along. I tucked them back in their pocket of my plaited skirt. I straightened my tuxedo shirt, whose tails reached below my skirt, and picked up my USB Drive. I fumbled through my presentation on the pertinence and proof behind the chaos theory, and a short addressing of space time. Blushing profusely, I took my seat and Mrs. Krineery, my astro-physics teacher, smiled at me and nodded.

The rest of the class was silent and barely acknowledged my existence.

After class, Mrs. Krineery passed out grades and reviews. The only writing on my sheet was a circled ninety-eight and a short note that said she liked the fashion of my presentation and the relation between the space time continuum and a bowling ball and a sheet.

I walked out of the mass of much-older classmates and leapt on the bus leaving the high school. Even though I was thirteen, I took all high school and college classes, and got top grades, despite being the youngest. I had skipped so many grades that I knew no one in any of my classes, and they were all too old and biased to give me the time of day. So, each day I took the bus to hell, hung out there for seven hours, and took the bus out.

I took my seat and flipped through the pages of homework, quietly burning them all to ashes in my mind.

Thirty minutes later, I jumped off the bus and began the long trudge down my family's dirt driveway. Halfway down what would have been a twenty minute walk, I hopped on my pink 12-gear bike and zoomed down the bumpy road, slowing down only when I reached the wrought iron gates of our old mansion.

I carefully pulled open the large gate, staring at the shine of copper where my hands had worn the gates over years of opening and closing, and gazed up at my "home". It was imposing and slightly unsettling, considering it had more rooms than you could count, and was four stories tall. It was more like a Gothic themed hotel than "home". I meandered up the last piece of the driveway and pushed open the large doors.

"I'm back!"

My exclamation was met with the sounds of fervid typing to my right. This would probably be the sounds of my work-a-holic dad. I peered into his office and saw him hunched over, in the dark, staring at the screen, probably calculating stock averages. I suppose there were some advantages to having busy parents and a huge house. For one thing, no one bugs me (and on the rare occasion [read: like, never] that they do, they can't find me), I can do whatever I want, I have a credit card, and I get to explore the collective places I like to call 'remnants of owners past', which are basically the attic, the basement, and all the secret rooms that no one knows about but me.

It was no shock that when I had finished the climb to the third floor, I found my mom holding a meeting (read: party) with her co-workers, and my little brother playing Mario on his DS. He looked up, waved and returned to his game. I waved back and returned to my ascent.

Finally, I reached my destination, the fourth floor. My floor. Also the most interesting of the main floors, not including the dusty, unused basement and attic. I wandered down the carpeted hallway and wondered how long it had been since someone other than me had walked the fourth floor. Using a tail from my tuxedo shirt, I shined one the dusty windows that faced out back. It had warped over time, but I could make out the mossy gazebo and maple trees below me. I made a silent vow to wash the windows after I had finished my reading.

Pushing open my door, I ran over past the ancient bookshelves that had been there since I was born, pulled on my ancient fur coat and leapt onto my canopied bed.

The canopied bed which was one of the oldest pieces of furniture my family still used.

The same bed that gave me The Cards.

I flipped over onto my stomach, and stared at the ornately carved headboard, which if you looked at closely enough, you would notice that it was part of the wall. My vision focused on a single rose in the pattern. I pressed it in and the headboard tipped back, into the wall. With a firm grip on The Cards, I tumbled through the cramped space and landed with a thud in the next room.


	2. Chapter 2

2

SAMANTHA

When I was six, I had discovered this secret room connected to mine. I remember it was right as I climbed into bed and turned out the light. I felt something crawl across my leg. I thought it was a mouse or a spider, so I flipped the sheets off the bed and searched. But there was nothing. I assumed it was my imagination, so I went back to bed.

But there it was again. It was crawling across and up my leg. I could feel it on my thigh. And like any other six-year-old, I shrieked and scurried out from under the covers. In the process, I backed up to the headboard and nearly hit my head against it. Whatever-it-was stopped. And then it began nibbling my toes!

I jumped, hit my head against one of the rose carvings, and fell through the wall. I screamed, but the music from my mother's party below me deafened the sound.

When I finally stopped screaming and looked around, I was fascinated. The room was dark but I found candles and matches on a cluttered, dusty desk. I lit a white candle with some difficulty, and my vision swept the room. Antique bookshelves were haphazardly littered with leather-bound books and folders, strange gold lettering covered the walls, and faded diagrams were pinned to the walls.

ᴕᴥᴕ

Looking around now, my "study" (as I came to call it), is very different. Everything is dusted and clean. The desks are neat, and the notes of archaic symbols are stacked. And The Cards are with me, of course.

ᴕᴥᴕ

Carrying the white candle with me, I inspected the hole I had fallen through. In the headboard, one of the roses had been pressed in. The sore, painful knob on my skull testified that my head had knocked it into action.

The next question to fly into my head was how someone could leave the room if they shut the "headboard hole". From my point of view, the "headboard hole" looked like an open oven and if I propped it up without shutting it, I could examine the back! Using my not-so-satisfactory six-year-old strength, I pulled up a chair and managed to push the heavy headboard up onto the chair without shutting it.

"Oh my goodness..."

The back of the headboard was covered with a maze of metal mechanisms that stemmed from the position of the carved rose switch. I quickly found a rose identical to the rose switch and pressed it in.

With a cacophonous screech the headboard slammed shut. I was about ready to start screaming again, but the rose on my side popped out again, and with another press, the headboard swung open. A huge smile broke out on my face, and I couldn't help myself... I shut it again and begun to further study the back. I quickly discovered how the mechanisms worked, but found one set of gears perfectly purposeless.

Hoping to discover its purpose, I twisted one of the gears with my fingers and set off a chain reaction. With the grind of rusty hinges, the pieces began spinning faster and faster. Bits of rust now littered the carpet underneath the headboard, having cracked off of the violently spinning gears and pulleys. And then, like a CD player out of a laptop, a wooden drawer shot out of the headboard, directly above my head.

I pulled over the chair and stood atop it, gently removing the contents of the secret drawer. Unlike the fixtures in the rest of the room, they hadn't seemed to have suffered from any aging. The letter on top hadn't even yellowed! But I was less focused on the effects of aging and more interested in the queer contents of the drawer.

After all, I was six.

I broke the wax seal on the letter and began reading:

February 4, In the year of 1902

Dear Reader,

You have been Chosen.

The Cards you hold in your hands will grant you great power, but this power comes at a price. Danger follows those who hold these cards. Should you leave these cards where they are, I will only say you have made a wise choice.

But should you take them, you must be wary of those who would use you or seek to bring your destruction.

These cards and the creatures inside them will seek to help you on your ventures and will grant you powers you would never imagine possible.

I am the previous owner of The Cards, and have left you the guide the previous owner left me. Should you take the time to decipher it, it will help you immensely on your journey.

Choose wisely,

Marion Agnes Nettles

I, of course, made the obvious choice and took The Cards. I have encountered no dangers since, so I suppose Ms. Nettles was trying to scare people off.

And then, there's the guide. Over the years, that guide has only served to annoy me to the point of snapping multiple pencils in half.

At once.

Lots of help that was, Ms. Nettles.

Pretty much the only thing I managed to learn from it was The Cards can give you advice through a reading, much like a pack of tarot cards. Only these are real and they actually work.

Which at first, didn't seem so amazing, but as I discovered that the limits on my readings were few and far between, I was able to go further and learn things that I never would have imagined. Everything from when a pop quiz was coming, which is supremely mundane (read: boring), to helping my family avoid mortal accidents.

So here I am now, completing my daily reading. I sit down cross-legged and placed the cards in front of me, directly in front of the lit candle. I begin to shuffle, falling into the rhythm of The Cards.

I keep shuffling, and the room begins to swim. I focus on the flickering light of the flame, trying to keep myself from falling into The Cards' power. They, and some other force seem to be pulling me in.

Some unknown, carnal instinct told me to keep shuffling, no matter what.

_That is, until you fall._

Wait, what?

I quickly disregard it and return to focusing on the flickering flame, trying to ignore the fact that the room around me is now just a mass of swirling colors.

_Focus on the flame._

I feel myself slowly sinking, listening to the voice and praying insanity isn't one of the dangers that came with The Cards.

The only clear thing I can see is The Cards shuffling. Even the flame seems to be wiggling. Sweat is breaking out on my face and by some miracle, I can still think with the room writhing around me like living marbled paper. The only constant thing now is the steady thwap of the cards smacking together as I shuffle. They seem to glow, each giving off a different color, and each time I touch a different one images flood my mind, only to be gone again in half a second. In my dreamy, foggy state of mind I relate it to a television changing channels.

The thought is gone in seconds, drowned out by the loud, desperate cry.

_STOP!_

It sounds like a hundred voices screaming in pain. The same carnal instinct that made me keep shuffling forces me to grab the cards. I watch, detached from my body, as my arm grabs the pack like a snake leaping to bite its prey. The hand (somehow it doesn't feel like it's mine, even though it is) grips the pack so tightly that its knuckles turn white. And then, I am back in control.

And I am falling.


	3. Chapter 3

3  
SAMANTHA  
There was nothing. It wasn't grey, or black or white. There was just this inexplicable feeling that there... wasn't.  
And then, there I am. I am standing, but I don't know on what. The nothingness still surrounds me, but I at least know that I exist.  
A brass door opens directly in front of me. So close, in fact, that it brushes the tip of my nose. The metal is cold and it makes my nose tickle. From where the door came, I don't know. My thoughts feel groggy, as if my brain is working at the speed of molasses.

"Um, I would recommend getting up. It's not exactly beneficial to your health to stay sitting down here for too long. You could melt in with the scenery, ya' know." She offers me a hand and a smile. I take her gloved hand and she pulls me up. Apparently, I was so distracted by the randomly appearing door that I fell on my butt.

Her gloves are covered with grease and her clothing is smudged with it. She has an apron with mechanical tools in the pockets, messy hair, and goggles on her head, like the ones that mechanics wear.

I scratch my head in embarrassment and notice that my hair is hopelessly knotted. So much for a braid to keep it neat and orderly.

"Where am I?" I follow the woman into the doorway, and instead of nothing, there is a black and white checkered floor, a grey couch, a white bed, and more doors. The room seems to extend to infinity.

"I don't think I should be the one to explain that. After all, technology is more my domain. Philosophy and spirituality... not so much," she responded. Her voice is bland and tinged with jealousy on the edges. She takes and deep breath and continues, "I know someone you should talk to, though."

She walks over to a door covered in flowering vines, dragging me along behind her. The door just seems to be floating there, begging to be opened. I tentatively reach up with my hand and grab the wooden handle, turning it.

This time, the woman's voice is playful, almost malicious as she whispers in my ear.

"Have fun!"

And I'm falling again, but this time it is only for a few short feet. I land on lily pad, my fur coat behind me and my legs in a crouch below me. Ripples spread through the pond, hitting more lily pads and aquatic flowers around me. Everything looks like a drawing of a pond, only I'm the size of a frog and there doesn't seem to be anyone but me here.

I hear the tinkling of laughter and a splash, but all my eyes can pick up is a flash of pink. After a little while of sitting in silence, I yell, "Hello?!"

My voice doesn't echo like I expected it to, but three multicolored, sprightly heads pop out of the water a few lily pads away.

"Hello!" all three heads chorus in unison, like the word is a novelty to them. Their voices dance in the wind, repeating until they fade away.

"Hello." This voice is deeper, more somber, less playful.

My body whips around, my hair whistling, as I stare at the woman, or creature that spoke. Her hair is a silvery pink, her skin shimmers, and her clothes appear to made of jewels. And she has wings.

They are the some color pink as her hair, and in spaces they look like stained glass.

"Who _are_ you?" I ask incredulously.

"It is truly a pity that you have not figured out what is going on yet. Did you even take the time to read the guide book?" the faery responds, unfazed.

"That really doesn't answer my question," I responded, feigning confidence.

"Look around you. Do you recognize anything? Do you recognize me? Did you recognize Poe?"

Poe. The guide book. Could it be?

Poe. The steampunk mechanic (at least that was how I saw her). One of The Cards that appeared to me once, right before my parents gave me my credit card. Her message was, "It's time for something new, a time for change, a time to use technology and gadgets with wisdom."

And if I am correct, the faery sitting in front of me is the Pink Lotus Fairy.

"You never appeared to me in a reading."

"I was not needed."

"Where am I?"

"You are in my realm. Before, the room with the doors, was the Nexus. It is where all of The Cards' spirits, which are contained in your set of cards, are permitted to meet," the fairy answered sagely.

"And where was I before?" By now, shivers were running down my back. Something gave me the feeing that I was in over my head. That the moment I picked up The Cards, everything changed.

"The Between. That's where we go when we are summoned. We can't stay there too long, or bad things happen. And you are right."

"Excuse me?"

"Your life did change when you picked up The Cards. But there are more important things to talk about now. For example, you falling through the floor during a reading. You _do _remember that, right?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, some people forget," she responded as if it explained everything, "And, yes, in case you were wondering, there have been others. To fall, I mean. You have inherited a set of oracle cards that have been passed down through generation to generation. These oracle cards allow you to divine the future, ask for advice and summon the spirits confined to the oracle cards. Sadly, one side effect is plane traveling. This is what happened to you," she elaborated, speaking in a practiced fashion, as if she had said this many times over the years, "Now, this also means that you have traveled to another plane. And I have reason to believe that you have landed in a rather, well, to be frank... _hostile_ environment. That is why you blacked out. We needed to contact you in a fashion that wouldn't be interfered with. Basically, you are dreaming right now. Your soul is currently inside our realm, but your body is somewhere entirely differ-"

"That means I am at the mercy of the 'hostile environment'! I could be being flayed right now! This isn't just bad, it's praying for someone to walk and kill me or rob me or... anything! And I wouldn't be able to do a thing about it!" I scream, suddenly feeling helpless and vulnerable. "Do you _want to kill me_?!"

"Actually, we are monitoring your situation right now. You appear to be fine, but be wary. The place you are staying is... off. The natural flow of energy and fate are changed there. There is something malevolent inside that house. I do not believe it is a person, but it could be. Be on your toes and ready to run at all times. I have helped you all I can. Good luck."

The pink fairy shimmers, and her wings grow increasingly bright. The light becomes blinding, and I feel like my connection is severed.

The light is surrounding me, and I can tell that it is time to wake up.


	4. Chapter 4

4

SAMANTHA

The voices that I heard were faint, but as the light faded, they grew louder. I was still groggy as I listened to the two people converse.

"No... not a prostitute. Not even prostitutes wear skirts that short. And I highly doubt that a prostitute would be able to afford a high quality fur coat like that," said a young man, as if in response to a question.

"A foreigner then? A member of some obscure native tribe? And I know your response to that. What kind of native tribe has the technology to send a girl shooting up into the air?" proposed a deeper voice. It seems exasperated, as if they had been arguing for a while.

"Actually, if would have rebuffed it with the fact that the threading of this girl's clothing is exceptionally fine, more advanced than even the machines of the Funtom factories..." he coolly said, obviously distracted. My eyes were still adjusting, but it appears as if he is bent over my body, examining the fabric of my skirt. He lifts up a layer, examining the underside and seams that fold the skirt under itself. "Fascinating... I've never seen this style of sewing. Maybe she_ is_ foreign..."

Another voice cut into the conversation. This voice was at the same octave as the other man's, but he spoke with the same serious and deductive intonation as the boy. "Master, it appears as if the underwear is even more high quality."

And that is about when I regained control of my body and my senses became their usual selves. My eyes blink a couple of times, and I sit up, only to find two men blatantly staring at my underwear. My eyes widen, and the boy looks up. His one visible eye is a striking blue, and the other is under an eyepatch. That is, if he has another eye.

The other man bent over me is much taller, and is dressed out in a suit. His hair is black, but his eyes are an unsettling red. In the corner sits a man in jeans and overalls. He is smoking a cigarette, and his blonde hair is dirty and singed.

The boy is bent over and examining my underwear again.

"_What the hell?!" _I shriek, flattening my skirt over my underwear and shuffling away from the boy. And then, it all makes sense. All attempts at staying calm, cool, and rational suddenly disappear.

Three men. Underwear staring. Hostile environment. And I am on a bed.

My body reacts before I can even think about it. My leg lashes out, and nearly connects with the boy's face. Right before it does, the white, gloved hand of the red-eyed man stops my foot. I pull back before he can get a grip on my foot.

"Miss, that is quite the impressive kick, but I must ask you to refrain from inflicting harm upon my master," the red-eyed man reasons. But I barely acknowledge his comment. _The Cards, where are they? And my fur coat? And The Cards!_

I throw the duvet on the bed out from underneath me, but The Cards aren't there. The duvet is caught by the red-eyed man, who proceeds to fold it. The boy seems to be watching me with a sick amusement.

"Where _are_ they?!" I am throwing pillows of the bed at this point, having completely stripped the bed of all coverings. I fling the last pillow off of the bed and watch as it impacts the boy's face, knocking him backwards. And for a half-second, all I can think is, _you deserved that, you sick pervert_. But then I return to freaking out, because the red-eyed man is walking towards me, and the man in the corner has jumped out of his seat and dropped his cigarette.

"Miss, I would like you to _please calm down or I will be forced to restrain you_," the red-eyed man commands, walking toward me with force in every step. I can tell that he is keeping himself from hitting me, and I can also tell that he will restrain me, with ease.

My eyes are flickering around, frantically searching, and I spot The Cards resting atop the side table on the other side of the queen-size bed. I take a diving leap away from the man, and manage to snatch half of them, sending the rest of them flying into the air.

My success is short-lived, though, because the red-eyed man is now storming over here. Faster than before. Five feet. Three. '_Oh my God, help me, help me, help me. Anybody, please get this man away from me!' _I scream in my mind.

He is reaching down to grab my shoulder, and suddenly, The Cards glow. His hand appears to be moving in slow motion, and I dive to the floor. The impact jolts my body, but it isn't painful. I look at my hands, checking for injuries. But I can't see them.

I am invisible.


	5. Chapter 5

/ AN: Ok, I think I died of happiness when I saw _I actually had comments on this book._ Just picture me sitting on my bed with my laptop on my lap opening my emails. I see the comments, and well... my laptop flew across the room and I started fangirl screaming like a nutty Directioner... I mean, I've had these chapters up on Wattpad for months, and no one read it except my BFF. Anyways, I hope to upload weekly, and more often if possible. Thank you!/

5

CIEL

"_What the hell?!_" shrieked the foreign girl. She had been asleep moments before, and seemed thoroughly displeased and embarrassed that I had been examining her remarkably made underclothes. What shocked me the most was not her reaction, but my lack of reaction to the fact that I had been examining her underwear. I looked up at her, unabashed.

She slams her hands down on the skirt, blocking my view of her underwear, and shuffles back with unparalleled speed. I calmly watch as some kind of horror strikes her face. Her features contort into a strange mixture of fear and rage.

And then, I see it.

At an inhuman speed, her foot whizzes to my face. Just inches before contact, Sebastian catches it, his hand being pushed back with the force. Before he can get a grip on the foot, it is back underneath her, and she looks even more distraught.

She is throwing sheets, pillows and duvets now, as if in search of some precious item. _Perhaps her dignity?, m_y mind wittily tosses in. While I laugh at my own joke, a pillow smacks me in the face, knocking me over. Sebastian rushes to my side, pulls me up, and then issues a warning to the girl. I am too dazed to care what he says, but the rage in his eyes speaks for itself.

The next thing I see is her leaping across the queen-size bed, and snatching the strange cards that she was holding when she fell out of the sky.

Sebastian is very close to her now, trying to contain his anger and calm her down by grabbing her shoulder. She appears to be praying, and as Sebastian finally contacts her shoulder, he falls forward, and has to catch himself on the backboard of the bed.

She is gone. Disappeared. Nonexistant.

I hear a thud, and the door behind me swings open. I hear the sounds of frenzied running down the hallway, and I see Mey-Rin and Finnian sprinting up the hallway.

"I heard a loud scream, yes, yes I did, sirs," Mey-Rin explains as quickly as she can, out of breath. She is bent over, her hands on her knees, drawing in as much air as she can.

But Sebastian has barely noticed their dramatic entrance. He is quietly contemplating the incident.

Mey-Rin and Finnian notice what he is doing and calm themselves. Sebastian bends down and picks up one of the large cards, examining it. He hands it to me. We had examined the cards before, but dismissed them as a strange set of playing cards. But now, it is obvious that they are something else. Something more... intriguing, maybe even sinister.

Sebastian picks up another card.

"Bardroy, do you feel anything strange when you touch this card? What is your take on this situation?" Sebastian asks as he passes a card to Bardroy. It is illustrated with a mermaid in a turbulent sea. I see a visible shudder pass through Bardroy, and the he throws the card away immeadiately. Sebastian asks again, "Bardroy? Answer me."

"Something is wrong with that... something entirely inhuman. The girl, she seemed fairly normal, but the moment she touched those cards, the air seemed muggier, as if we weren't the only ones here."

"And what was your first reaction to her disappearance?" I inquired. I looked down at the card in my hands, which had a woman dressed in red standing next to a blue, furry creature.

"Well, it looked like she was whispering 'help me', and it looked like she was praying. And then I saw the cards that she was holding glow. Then she was gone. I know this sounds irrational, but at first, I thought she had turned invisible and leapt to the floor, giving the effect that she had disappeared."

"Now that you mention it, I did hear a third set of footsteps running down the hallway... and the door seemed to open for us when Mey-Rin and I got here," chimed in Finnian.

And then, Sebastian began barking orders.

"Mey-Rin, remove those ridiculous glasses, and for once, I approve of you running in the halls. Search the house for any signs of a girl of roughly forty-seven kilograms, one hundred and sixty centimeters tall. She would have been running, and is most likely utterly lost at this point. Bardroy, where do you think she headed?"

"To the left," Bardroy quickly answered.

"Sebastian, tell me when you have found her. I have more important business to attend to. Have Finnian escort her to my office so I can assess the situation myself," I said, before getting up and walking over to gather the remaining cards into a pile. I picked them up and placed the card I had been holding on the top.

Sebastian returns to ordering Mey-Rin, Bardroy, and Finnian to their duties. As I walk down the halls, I absently flip through the cards, examining each one.

There is something more to these cards, and more to _her _than met the eyes_. _And I intend to find out.


	6. Chapter 6

6

SAMANTHA

I am invisible.

But I barely have any time to think. My instinct tells me to get out, and that is exactly what I do. Holding the few cards I have in my hands, I quietly push myself up. No one can see me.

Yet.

I sprint out the door, throwing it open. I don't even look back, but I can hear more people coming. My speed only increases at the thought of being pursued, and in seconds, I am at the end of the hallway. I take a sharp turn and continue running. I meet a flight of stairs and head down.

I reach the foot of the flight of stairs and stop to think. _It appears to be a Victorian-style mansion, which means that I was most likely in a guest room on an upper floor. But, this is an alternate dimension... everything could be different. _And then, I realize thatI am probably going to be found if I don't move.

I resist the urge to curl up I a ball at the bottom of the stairs and pray not to be found, no matter how invisible I am. I need to find a room to hide in, preferably one with a window. Maybe one that has things I could barricade the door with.

I open the door to an unnumbered floor of the mansion and run down the first hallway I see. I try to open every door, but most are locked. My pulse races as door after door, handle after handle, jam as I shake them.

Locked.

Jammed.

Shut.

And then, my salvation comes. I practically fall into the room in my rush. Catching myself, I whip my body around and slam the door directly behind me. With my back to the door, I catch my breath and survey the room.

There doesn't appear to be anyone here. I stare at my hands, checking to see if the invisibility has worn off or not. It hasn't changed. _No surprise there,_ I think.

I look back up and am met by a smiling face. The face is sweet, almost childish, and her form is misty, like a ghost. Her eyes are an umber color, and her hair is a greenish platinum blonde to match her flowing sundress.

I recognize her almost immediately.

The Ghost of the Pumpkin Patch. Her message is Count Your Blessings, and I always saw her as a lonely ghost, unseen by anyone but the most observant. Almost like a guardian angel for the people who visited her haunt, reminding them of the wonderful things in their life.

"Finally noticed me, huh?" said the small ghost. Her voice is melancholy, but light and kind at the same time.

"How did you get here? Wait... the Pink Lotus Flower Fairy said something about this being a summoning... Are you why I'm invisible?" My brain is moving faster than my mouth, and I quickly begin to make the connections between The Cards and the strange incident that I endured. My face registers the realization and I gasp.

"It seems like I don't have much to explain," laughed the ghost. "You aren't nearly as stupid as Pinkie said you were. Be grateful for that. Anyways, by begging to be saved while holding The Cards, you summoned me to come to your aid. For the record, you never did this before because you were never in a situation like _that_ before, and it is apparently much easier to access the power of The Cards here. I think Pinkie said something about the more dangerous a plane is, the easier it is to use The Cards. Okay, so this is your first time summoning, right?"

"Um, yeah," I answered, still somewhat surprised that she knew so much. I imagined her much less informative, and slightly shyer. But this turnout is useful. I'm learning a lot.

"All right! That makes me feel special. I get to explain everything!," cheers the ghost, suddenly upbeat. "Okay, so in this world you can summon a spiritual form of The Card (which in this case would be me) and use an ability that is related to The Card. In my case, this is invisibility, but say you summoned Poe. She would provide you with whatever useful technology you needed at the time, as well as a knowledge of mechanics.

"As you can see, the spiritual form of The Card can speak to you, but they can't affect the physical world," she said, and walked through a chair in the middle of the room to demonstrate. "For now, at least. If you get better, you may learn to summon us physically. By conversing with us we can provide insight on your situation, and lead you to various resources. We can also remain in this world without the ability being present. So you _can_ stop being invisible, you know. It is making it rather difficult to focus on your face. I have to concentrate to see you," she informed me.

"Really?! How?" I ask, suddenly wanting to return to normal. Despite the invisibility's usefulness, it was disconcerting. Not being able to tell if your foot is directly in front of you or behind you makes it difficult to walk, especially if you focus on watching your feet. It is much easier to just not think about it.

"Shhhh!" she suddenly whispers urgently. "I think that they are in the hallway, so instead of explaining, I'll do it for you this time. I'll teach you how later."

And she disappears.

I realize that I haven't moved since I saw the Ghost of the Pumpkin Patch. My back is still to the door. Now visible, I can see that my hair is stuck in the door. The steady smacking sound of a pair of heels and the light thud of a pair of flat-bottomed shoes inch down the hallway.

If they get much closer, they will be able to see my hair sticking out of the door. So, as quietly and slowly as I can, I raise my shaking arm. It reaches behind my head and grabs the lock of hair.

Silently, I begin to pull the hair through the crack. I am silent, but my hair has other ideas. It pulls through quietly, but not as quietly as I would have hoped. It makes a light sound, like someone blowing air through their front teeth.

And the last strand gets stuck. I yank it out and it squeaks.

Both people in the hallway stop. And then I hear it. Like storming elephants, they both run to the door. I hear a loud bang and the handle of the door falls away. As fast as I can, I run away from the door, afraid of getting shot.

The door slowly creaks open, and I suddenly receive what seems to be crushing hug from the same gardener who saved me from falling to my death. Or maybe it's a strangle hold.

"Loosen up... please... I can hardly breathe..." I manage to say between gasping breaths.

I am face to face with a maid holding a gun. Her eyes are striking, and her hair is an odd shade of red, almost pink. And then she speaks up, saying in an upbeat voice, "You're going to have to come with us, Miss, yes you are. Fin, dear, loosen up a little. The poor Miss is about to turn blue!"

She pulls a pair of glasses out of her pocket, shines them with a rag, and puts them on. They dwarf her face, making her appear almost comical. I giggle lightly, but the comedy of the situation is lost when the young gardener, Fin (I believe?), flips me over his shoulder and skips down the hallway. Each time his feet touch the ground, bounce with him, my stomach taking the brunt of the force when my body slams back into him.

He arrives at a set of stairs and carries me down a flight, to the what I would assume would be two floors below the room where I awoke. Or am I above it? I'm already lost, as if the house is designed to be impossible to navigate.

Fin totes me down the hallway, and the maid fumbles for the handle, as if she needs help to see it. She finally grasps the handle, and opens the door.

Fin walks in and is met with a forceful voice.

"How many times do I have to remind you two? Knock before entering!"

I am still over the gardener's shoulder, so I can only see behind Fin. But just from looking at what I can see, I can tell I am in a study of sorts. An old portrait of a man is directly in front of my face, next to the door. It is labeled 'Funtom Enterprises' and the man on it is probably the founder.

"I see you've found our visitor. Finnian, put her in the chair," says the voice, and before I can prepare for the impact, I am flung into the chair.

Across the desk is the same boy who had been examining my underwear. His eye is still a striking blue, and he is resting on his elbows, staring across the desk at me. I suddenly have the urge to slap the haughty expression off of his face.

"Finnian, restrain her. It appears that our guest is not in a very pleasant mood. Anyways, Miss, I think we should start with introducing ourselves. I am the Earl Ciel Phantomhive, Head of Funtom Enterprises. I believe we have a lot to talk about."


	7. Chapter 7

7

SAMANTHA

I took a deep breath and mustered the most indignant face I could think of. And his reaction? Nothing. So much for intimidating him. _ As if you could ever pull off being intimidating, Samantha. Especially after being restrained by a lanky teenager to a chair_, I thought to myself.

It appeared that the boy was waiting for me to introduce myself, with the same haughty expression on his face. Well, he was an earl. That would explain the mansion and the fact that he was so condescending. And the head of an entire enterprise? This was something. _I had best be careful_, my brain helpfully suggested. _Tell me something I don't know_, I joked with myself.

"Um, sir, I know it isn't my place, but I believe you should be lenient on the Miss. She obviously didn't mean any harm, and she was probably scared out of her wits. So can I stop restraining her? She appears to have regained her composure... And I feel really bad for being so forceful with a lady... And she seems uncomfortable," babbled Finnian. He sounded nervous and out of sorts, not at all calm and pleasant like he was before. He was speaking quickly, his words running together. "Are you uncomfortable? I don't mean to be holding you down too tightly. I'm just a little stronger than I often think I am," he continued, talking to me now. He was obviously concerned. I felt a surge of pity for him.

_Stuck having to work with _that, I thought, wondering just how rude the boy, Ciel, was to his servants. Somehow, I knew that he would be the boy to me, just like The Cards were The Cards. He just didn't feel human enough to warrant a name. It felt the same with the red-eyed man.

"I'm fine, Finnian," I said quickly, my voice answering more out of a wish to make him feel better than to be truthful. Honestly, when the boy had told him to restrain me and he had gripped on my shoulders, I _had_ become uncomfortable. After all, he was limiting my movement and forcing me to stare at the boy. But sometimes lies were more merciful than the harsh truth. And he didn't need to feel any worse than he already did.

"How do you know my name?"

"It's what everyone has been calling you. Not very hard to figure out," I brusquely answered, surprised by his stupidity. I guess I did sound a little too familiar, but he had saved my life. The least I could was remember his name. "You saved my life, after all. It would be rude not to learn your name."

"Anyways..." the boy intruded, "I would like to learn your name. And why you're here, how you got here, and why you just _happened _to turn invisible and run away from me to make my life harder. And while you're at it, why not tell me how you happened to fall out of the sky?" His voice was bored, but I could sense thinly-veiled fascination underneath the hostility. He was analyzing every move I made, every word I spoke and, scarily enough, the red-eyed man seemed to be doing the same thing.

The smartest thing to do right now is analyze my situation. I'm obviously not going anywhere, and the boy seems patient enough. The owners of the manor are currently at an advantage, considering they know their way around, have me restrained to a chair, and are of a high status in this society. I on the other hand, have no idea where I am, have no connections here, and am currently being physically restrained. The boy appears to be at the same level of intelligence as me, but his servants are not. Finnian is obviously very strong, the maid has a gun, and the red-eyed man appears to be skilled in martial arts. I can turn in invisible with access to The Cards, as well as other abilities I have not tapped into.

I have no access to The Cards in my current position, and some of them are in the custody of the boy. I can see them on his desk, in plain view, close enough that I could walk up and touch them. The boy is still analyzing me, and, due my carelessness, he picks up on my interest in The Cards. He carefully places a hand over them, and I immediately feel the contact. I shudder visibly.

The red-eyed man steps out from the shadows behind the desk, and holding his gloved hand over his mouth, whispers something in the boy's ear.

"Wonderful idea, Sebastian. She does appear to have the talent for the job, anyways. And it could get her to talk." He addresses me now. "If you are willing to divulge the information I asked of you previously, commit no misdemeanors (so to speak), and unconditionally serve the Phantomhive household, we would be willing to offer you a position of maid and bodyguard here. Mey Rin, Finnian, and Bard will be happy to attest to the good conditions and reasonability of this job."

"Oh, the beds in the servants quarters are heavenly, yes they are! And the food is impeccable, and you don't have to do much!" Mey Rin butted in. I felt Finnian nod vigorously behind me, nearly shaking by body with the motion.

"You'll love it! And Sebastian is very nice, and we have visitors almost everyday, and plus, we're all happy to have you! You definitely have the abilities to be hired here. There _really_ aren't many people who qualify," insisted Finnian.

"What will I receive in exchange?" I asked. The question was essential. I obviously needed The Cards back, and I needed food and a place to stay. And if this plane was hostile, I would probably need a guide. Something told me these people were not perverts, or rapists, as I was first led to believe.

"You will receive food, a place to stay and protection. And we will return these," he brandished the cards close to my face, almost to tease me, "in periodic intervals, or after you complete a more difficult job. I already know that you are in possession of about half of these tarot cards. I am in possession of twenty-three.

"How about this? I will pay you three cards if you tell me what I want to know, and I will pay you one card if you agree to work for us. Is that amenable to you?" proposed the boy.

"Fine," I begrudgingly answered, "It's not like I have much other choice."

"So, what is your name, and where are you from?"

"To answer that I would like all unnecessary ears to leave the room."

"Mey Rin, please exit the room. Sebastian, take up Finnian's position restraining Ms. Weever," the boy calmly answered. His orders were carried out and I was soon restrained by the red-eyed man, who was most likely the butler of the household. "Will you explain now?"

"My name is Samantha Weever, and I am from the United States of America," I answered and smiled lightly as I saw his slight surprise.

"How did you get here?"

"Must I be restrained?" I asked in a pleading voice.

"Until you are proven unvolatile, yes," answered the butler from behind me.

"Fine. I fell through my plane and into yours. I'm not quite sure what triggered it, but apparently I am not the first to fall. Others using The Cards have, as well. I don't know how to leave this plane or return to my own. But I have figured out that my plane is most likely on a different time schedule than yours. So I suppose you could say I am from the future." I explained as vaguely as I could, trying to confuse them into not being interested anymore.

"So, basically, you fell from another world into ours, due these cards here?" asked the boy, holding up The Cards, again. "I am guessing these cards also turned you invisible?"

"Yes. It appears that my relationship with the spirits residing within The Cards is more open here," I answered in a flat tone. The boy began to massage his head, deep in thought. He was most likely trying to analyze the vague information I gave him, and I was relishing his confusion.

"My Lord, it appears she has somehow entered into a contract with the spirits residing in those cards. I would assume that the plane falling was an effect of over-exertion as well as it currently being Samhain, the day demons have their most power. And I would also assume that these planes you speak of are arranged in levels, which would be how you 'fell' into our plane. Yours was directly above ours," commented the butler, who obviously knew a lot more than he seemed to.

The boy clapped his hands together as if to acknowledge the discovery. "Fantastic deduction, Sebastian."

"What Phantomhive butler would be worth his salt if he could not figure something as simple as that out?" replied Sebastian in a joking tone. _Is that some kind of inside joke?_

"Well, Ms. Weever, why did you turn invisible and run away from us in the first place?" inquired the boy.

I felt myself visibly blush. _How would_ you_ react to waking up on a bed, in a room with three men, two of which happen to be inspecting to your underwear?_

"The scene was incriminating, to say the least."

"And to say the most?"

"I woke up on a bed, in a room with the door shut, the curtains closed, with two men openly examining my underwear. What would your assumption be? Needless to say, I left as fast as I could."

"I really don't understand what you are getting at," calmly commented the boy. He obviously knew what I was avoiding saying, but seemed to relish torturing me over it. He had no pity or shame whatsoever. _This what I agreed to work for?_

"I thought you all were rapists." _There, buddy, I said it. You happy now?_ I immediately heard the red-eyed man snigger behind me.

"Pardon my uncouth behavior, Miss. But we exist to eliminate those kinds of people. The irony of your assumption just validated that you truly _aren't _from here," laughed the butler. _So, now they act like I'm stupid?_

"Now that that has been explained, are you done questioning me? Can I just sign the papers or something? And I'm not answering any questions about the future, either." I paused a moment, wondering if there was anything I needed to make clear. I continued with a question, "What year is it? And where am I?"

"It is within the reign of Queen Victoria, 1888, and you are in the Phantomhive Estate, just outside of London," the butler quickly recited. "And my name is Sebastian. Please refer to me as such at all times. Maybe it will help if you think it, too. The same protocol applies to the Young Master."

_Okay, now that is just creepy. I can think of more than just one thing that is off in this household. Something is affecting the cogs of fate here, and the butler can move faster than humanly possible, as well as read minds. He obviously has something to do with this._

"Can I sign the contract now?" I asked impatiently. As soon as I could get out of here, I would. And if that meant signing some contract to work here and get The Cards back, then I would.

"There will be no written contract for you, Miss. But a given understanding that should you willingly betray this household, you will undergo a living hell," calmly said the butler, Sebastian.

"How long will this contract last?"

"Until we return all of these cards back. Then you may continue to work for us if you would like, or you may quit and return to wherever you came from," answered Ciel. S_omething tells me that I really should start_ calling_ them by their names. _ Sadly, the butler's intimidation was already taking effect.

"Fine. I agree."

"Sebastian, please show our new maid to her quarters. Have a uniform commissioned for her, and introduce her to the other members of the household."

And with that last comment I was roughly pulled out of my chair, through the door and back into the maze of hallways that was the Phantomhive Manor.


End file.
